Alanna goes to the convent
by dreamqueen11
Summary: Alanna comes to Corus fresh from the palace. She meets Roger and becomes part of his plot for the throne. drama ensues.
1. Of sledding and balls

A/N: Yup, ANOTHER Alanna goes to the convent story (As if more are needed : ) ). How could I resist?

Prince Jonathan stared tiredly out his window, absentmindedly watching more court ladies arrive. It's as though they're shipped in, like pretty flowers for the ball, he thought. A blonde, brunette, chestnut, black, gold, red, smoky brown, curly, strait, wavy, willowy, petite, plump, pale, ivory, rosy, beautiful, ugly, it made no difference. None of them had any more sense than an acorn. And he had to go to every ball! He kicked the floor, drawing a smile from his squire. 

"Tired of court ladies, Jon?" he inquired sweetly. 

"You would be too, if you had to attend all the midwinter balls, Thom," he growled. "Oh, but I do, Highness," Thom replied, grinning wickedly. 

"I meant as a knight, not to mention prince, pinhead. At least your parents aren't upset when you neglect to dance with less than five court ladies."

Thom's teasing look softened when he remembered. "Alanna will be coming this year though," he told Jon. "She'll be different." The prince was not impressed. The year before Gary and Alex's sisters had come, and the year before Geoffrey's. None of them were any smarter than the rest. He didn't say anything though. Thom had the temper of a bear. Jon always had to be careful not to anger his squire. The result could be something bad. He grinned, remembering when Sklaw had threatened to put Thom in to the convent, when he lost his twelveth duel in a row. It had taken Duke Roger and three other mages to turn Sklaw from toad back to human again. 

#######################################################

"Thom, I don't see how it matters! No one but George and 'Fingers saw any way, and I don't care if they tell." 

Jon had listened with amusement as this woman and Thom fought. He assumed it was Thom's sister. Then he had heard her mention George and Lightfingers names' mentioned. Now he guessed it was a member of the Rouge. Rather than disturb their argument, Jon leaned carefully on the door, easing it open a crack so he could see. His squire was battling with a woman who's flaming hair and violet eyes matched his. She wore an emerald dress, and wore a white fur robe over it. Small snowflakes clung to her hair, as if she had been outdoors for a long time. 

"But sledding, 'Lanna?" You know your reputation is already teetering, what with all the things you've done. 

"Like what?" Alanna asked, her eyes dancing. "I never got to see the letters the priestesses sent to you and Father."

Thom used a finger to count each episode. "On your first year, you dyed one of the elderly Daughter's wig purple. On the second, you gave Lady Coriana a bouquet of lilies, already knowing her large allergies to them. On the third you dumped a chamber pot on the convent's wealthiest benefactor. On the fourth you kicked your professor, though I'm not going to say where...(A/N heehee). On the fifth year let 50 toads into the convent and scared everybody half to death. On the sixth," Thom added this finger to his right hand, "you showed your Shang skills, after studying in secret for many years. And now you're here, and you have already gone sledding with the King of the Rouge, despite the Daughters command to stay in your room and prepare for the ball. His voice was stern, but Jon could see Thom's eyes were twinkling. 

Alanna yelped at the mention of the party. "I forgot!" she exclaimed. Thom rolled his eyes and groaned.

"'Bye Thom," she called already running as fast as she could down the hall.

Jonathan grinned. Perhaps Thom was right. Maybe Alanna was different.

#######################################################

Alanna had run out of violent language. She began to repeat, but cursed her father instead for hearing Thom's and her plans to switch places. If he hadn't heard, then she could have learned a larger variety of curses from Coram, instead of inventing them. She reached her apartments. She jumped behind a screen to change, into her amber party dress. She found her unfashionable red hat, and stained white gloves. She didn't have time to unpack her face paint. She leapt over to the full oval mirror, already set up, to inspect herself. She moaned as she examined herself. She would never pass the Daughter's inspection. She began to invent an excuse as to why she was not only late to the inspection, but also not looking her best.

Dashing down the halls, she halted, and walked in a slow, dignified way up to the priestess's rooms, and knocked softly. Lady Cytherra opened the door. "You are late," she told Alanna. "The ball begins in only half an hour. And you look awful. Just a moment." She walked over to where the priestess sat, lecturing the other girls on proper behavior. The two conferred softly. The priestess began to look pleased. She nodded, and waved her hand, dismissing Cytherra, and returned to lecturing the other girls. Cytherra walked back to Alanna, who was trying to keep the feeling that she was doomed from showing on her face. "The priestess has given me permission to dress you up for the ball," she told Alanna, a smirk on her face. Alanna had a strong temptation to prove her Shang skills again.

A quarter of an hour later Alanna came out of Cytherra's room. She did not look like the free-spirited rebellious girl that she was. She looked simply like a personalitiyless convent girl. Instead of her plain amber dress she wore a scarlet dress with the lowest neckline possible, and an extremely tight waist, with a strained corset. On her head she wore a ruby covered tiara under an elaborate hairstyle, and held a matching fan in black lace gloves. She wore simple black slippers on her feet, hiding under three petticoats. 

"You have done an excellent job Cytherra!" declared the Daughter. "She is beautiful, almost as elegant as yourself. Now, it is time to go to the ballroom!"

#######################################################

"I've never known Thom to spend so much time with a lady, even a pretty one," Raoul said dryly. "He's usually off in a corner by the refreshments table, trying to hide."

"Ah, but it's his own sister," Jon informed him. "She's been with him all night. I don't see why. There are plenty of men willing to dance with her, if she'd let her brother go."

"Like you?" Gary asked, flashing a knowing grin at Raoul.

"No!" said Jon indignantly. "I was to talking about those men over there. He gestured at some knights who were staring at Alanna. "Or these ones," he said, gesturing to Gary and Raoul. Raoul blushed. Gary raised his eyebrows, but kept his thoughts to himself. 

"So, what do you say we try to find out Thom's girlfriend? (A/N did they say girlfriend back then?)" Raoul asked. "He won't tell us who, and my curiosity is beginning to get the better of me. 

Gary grinned.

"Here's what we'll do. I'll call Thom away," began Raoul 

"You'll do anything to get away from the party," muttered Gary.

Raoul ignored him. "Gary, you will dance with Lady Cythera."

"Great," grumbled Gary.

"You will leave her with Thom's sister at the end of the dance. Jon, will then dance with Lady Alanna, and see if she knows. When you're done, meet Gary and I in the garden. 

Jon sighed and shook his head. "All right," he told the others. Gary left. "I s'pose I'd better go to," said Raoul. Jon watched his friends leave, and began sidling across the room to where Thom's sister stood. She has such a pretty figure, he thought, not as thin as some of the others'...almost muscular? No, he corrected himself; Thom's sister wouldn't be muscular if he himself wasn't. He had to have been teasing her when he said she had Shang training.

He brought himself back to the real world with a jolt - Gary was leaving Cytherra with Alanna. He strode over, and came face to face - or rather face to top of head - with the lady.

"Do you dance, Lady?" he asked. His squire's sister looked regretfully at Cytherra, and then raised her eyes, so like her brother's, to meet his. "Yes highness," she told him softly, very much a different lady from the one she had been with her brother. Jon led her on to the dance floor. This dance was a waltz, slow and weary. 

"Do you enjoy this winter weather?" Jon asked at last. "No," she replied. "And why not?" Jon inquired. 

"Because it's cold," she told him flatly. 

"It is cold, but snow can be so much fun!" Jon insisted. 

"In breeches, maybe, but it is torture in skirts. Have you tried it?" she wanted to know. "They either cling to you, or you are in hoops. It might be more fun in practical clothes".

The dance had finished. (A/N Short dance, eh?) "Would you care to join a party of squires and ladies for skating tomorrow? He suggested. "Perhaps we could change your opinion of winter weather." 

"Oh, I'm afraid not." Alanna began happily. "Because - "

"I will tell the Daughter where you are." Cytherra had joined them. "I'm sure she will understand."

"Thank you, Lady," Jon told Cytherra. "Tomorrow, then." 

"Yes, highness," Alanna said, revealing her opinion of going with him.

Jon strode over to the garden, where he could see Raoul and Gary's large silhouettes. "Well? Gary asked. "I couldn't get anything out of her," Jon told the two - although it had completely slipped his mind to ask. "But," he added, "She's coming with the other ladies tomorrow, so you try your luck. 

Thom met them. "Dancing with my sister, Jon?" he inquired, sounding amused. 

"To find out your girlfriend, Thom. Thom turned red. "I don't have a girlfriend!" He didn't notice that Jon had turned almost as red as him.


	2. Of skating and heroics

Because some people requested no author's notes during the story, I thought I would use *s to indicate where they are and if you want to read them go ahead and if you don't, don't. If that bothers anyone, please tell me and I'll figure out something else.

The next day Jon rose early, to meet Gary and Raoul. As a squire, Thom could not go. "Where do we meet the ladies, boys?" he asked. 

"The gardens, Jon. You should have remembered!"

The two men went into the gardens to find all the women dressed in snug firs, and had managed corsets as well. They each held a pair of skates. Gary took Cytherra, Raoul had a young Bazhir lady, and Jon took Alanna. She was wearing a deerskin coat and muff, and she seemed to have managed not to wear hoops underneath her sapphire skirt*. Jon was not surprised. 

They hiked a short ways to a tiny lake hidden in the woods next to the palace*. The ice had completely frozen over the lake, and icicles hung from the surrounding pines. Gary tricked Cytherra to going under a branch and then shook it so that it rained snow and ice. She screamed and covered her head. Alanna wondered whether that was Lady-like, and sorely missed Thom, the only person she could ask. She sat on a fallen log and began to lace up her skates. 

"Do you need help?" Jon asked. 

"What do you think?" Alanna retorted. "Do I look like an idiot who can't tie her own shoes?"

"Oh," said Jon, slightly taken aback. "Sorry."

Alanna was the first to get on the lake. She loved to skate. It was probably the useful thing she picked up at the convent, after she had conquered her fear of being on ice. She wasn't perfect at spins and twirls, but she was fairly good at jumps and a master of speed. She skated her fastest in a circle around the lake, then went over to help Aleen, Raoul's partner, onto the ice. Soon the lake was full with the six of them moving around. Cytherra, the only lady who was equal to Alanna in skating, was playing stupid so that she could hang onto Gary's arm as he guided her around the lake. Jon had given up on Alanna (much to her relief), and was talking to Raoul. Aleen was at a corner practicing a particularly complicated spin. And Alanna was all alone - again. Well, it's not as if I'm no to blame Alanna thought. Jon would be perfectly happy to be with me, to have another mouth to kiss...and more... 

Feeling friendless she went over to one side of the lake and practiced a jump. It felt wonderful, moving through the air for a few moments...but where was the solid ice...? Suddenly, Alanna was engulfed in cold water...she was drowning! She pushed up again, only to have her head connect with solid ice...so this is what it's like to die...she thought.

Meanwhile everyone was in shock. Cytherra screamed and fainted on Gary, who placed her gently on the ice and went to help Jon, Raoul, and Aleen. Jon used his gift to get rid of the ice above Alanna so that she could swim up to the surface. He waited 10 seconds - when nothing happened he grimly stripped off his jacket and shirt. "I'm going in," he told everyone and before they could stop him he had dived into the ice cold water after Alanna. Using his gift he lit the water so he could see. Finally he saw a flash of scarlet - her hair. He lifted her unconscious body up onto the ice, where the rest of them - including Cytherra, who had joined them in hopes of getting Gary's attention from being helpful - stood waiting. Then he climbed out himself.

"Well," he told them, "I believe that is the end of this ice-skating trip."

#######################################################

Alanna opened an eye. This wasn't the ceiling of her room at Trebond...it wasn't the stone ceiling of the convent...It wasn't her room in the palace...where was she? Suddenly a red handkerchief loomed into view...now what was a nose doing on it...? Or two concerned eyes? She grinned feebly, recognizing the face and hair of her brother. 

"You're awake. Good."

"Where are we?" she croaked.

Thom handed her a glass of water and said, "Right now you're in the care of Duke Baird. You gave us quite a scare, 'Lanna. It's a good thing Jon was there, or you might have drowned." 

"What did Jon do?" Alanna asked. 

"He picked you up and brought you back out of the lake," her brother informed her. "Quite romantic, actually," he added, his eyes sparkling mischievously. 

Alanna tried to look calm, but she did NOT like having someone besides herself savingher life. It made her feel like a court lady. Which made her think about how she was one. So, Jon had rescued her, saved her life. Now I owe him, Alanna thought. Now I have to flirt with him, pretend I'm in love, and do whatever he wants. This is practically like I belong to him. But I don't want to! He's stuck on himself and used to having whichever lady he wants, without even trying. But he is Thom's friend...that doesn't mean he's mine. What can I do? I need to get away from here...so why don't I?! Didn't George say he would let me into the rouge if ever I wanted to? What about Thom...I suppose I could write him. Sad, growing up having but 2 friends in the world. Better than none, I suppose. Yes, definatly better than none.

Her mind made up, Alanna closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

*1 Did anyone wear hoops ice-skating back then?

*2 am I right that there is a forest anywhere near Corus? It didn't say on the map and I haven't read the books all summer (I save them for winter when I'm out of good reads).


	3. Of Roger and trouble

Author's Note: I haven't decided if this will e A/J or A/G, but it will probably be A/J 'cause I love it!!!

George shook his head. "She's a plucky lass, that one," he said to no one in particular. He sat down at his desk and wrote a quick message to her, ignoring the din of the Dancing Dove on the floor below.

Alanna,

Although it is tempting for me to let you to join the rogue, I have to say no. I don't want to be in charge of ruining your future. I know you'll fume when you read this letter, but I want you to know that you can stay at the Dancing Dove as long as you want. I just don't want you to become a thief and ruin your good name. 

-George

He scanned the letter one last time before rolling it up and attaching it to a snowy white messenger bird and sent it out the window. 

#######################################################

"Since when has George worried about my good name?" Alanna demanded. Faithful blinked and resumed his grooming. "It's not as though I actually want it. Come on Faithful. I need to go cool off."

Alanna strode out of the room, complete with breeches, and moved off to the practice courts. "You know what Faithful?" she ranted. "I don't care if anyone sees me. What do I have to lose? I don't care anymore. I don't care about anything."

What about your brother? Faithful pointed out. Alanna grimaced. Faithful always knew how to catch her. 

"He has enough friends. He doesn't need me. Half the time I wonder if he still knows I exist, the way he goes off with friends. He ignores me." Alanna knew she was being harsh, but she didn't care. 

She moved to the archery courts and selected a longbow that was as stiff as the Provost himself. Then she strung the bow and selected an arrow, hitting the target dead on. Once she had hit the bull's eye with the remaining arrows, she stomped over to the target and yanked out her arrows. As she resumed her shooting, Alanna heard a voice that sent a chill up her spine. 

"I didn't know they taught archery at the convent." 

"They don't." Alanna turned around to face the man, and almost mistook him for Prince Jon, but for his slightly lighter hair and almost malicious expression. He curled his lip. 

"Then how, pray, did you learn? For you are good, quite good. I mistook you for a boy at first, although most of them tend to keep their hair shorter," he said, gesturing at her waist length hair that was in a long braid down her back.

"Who are you, anyway?" Alanna demanded, in no mood to be polite. If she had ever had any instincts, it was now, and they were telling her to run away at once and not let this man know anything about her. And so, of course, curiosity made her stay.

"Forgive, lady, for not introducing myself. I am Duke Roger of Conté. And who might I have the pleasure of meeting?"

She sighed. "I'm Alanna. Look, I have a meeting in the city, so if you will excuse me?"

Alanna swept past him. "Wait, my Lady!" he called. 

She whirled around, almost causing him to bump into her. "What!?" she snarled.

"You left your purse, Lady Alanna," the Duke said, looking amused.

Alanna colored slightly. "Thank you," she said shortly.

She moved to Moonlight's stables and grabbed her mare, not bothering to put on a saddle ar bridle. She galloped to the forest, wanting to think and cool off undisturbed. She had just entered when something hit her head and everything went black.

#######################################################

Thom was reading a history book when Coram came in. "Thom..."

"Hmmm?" asked Thom absently, deep in the wars of Scanran battle tactics a century before. 

"Thom, I think you'll want to listen to this."

Thom peered over the top of his book. "Can it wait, Coram? I'm in the middle of translating an old Scanran code in this book."

"Lad, I think you'll find that it can't wait," said Coram. "You see, your sister seems to be missing."

Thankee, everyone who reviewed!!!!!!!!!! More be coming.


	4. Of chains and cold

Hehehe, haven't updated in a loooong time. Sooooorry! (speaking whale…just watched Finding Nemo in Spanish. Don't tell me I'm weird, I already know).

The first thing she felt on was the painful throbbing of her head. Attempting to raise a hand to feel, she realized she was tied up. 

Thom! He must be frantic. She hoped he wouldn't do anything drastic. She could look after herself, but she didn't want to have to look after both of them.

The tall figure of…who was it?…Duke...Duke Roger towered over her as he entered in the peasant's shack she was prisoner in. 

"Greetings, Lady Alanna," he said, smirking. 

"Greetings, Coward," she returned, smiling just as icily.

He laughed, a high ringing laugh that sent shivers down her spine. It was probably the scariest thing he could do. She shuddered. "I'm a coward not to attack you in public? Not to attack you when you were with your 'darling prince' so he could save you? I think not. You are capable of taking care of yourself. _Yes_, I've been watching you, darling. Not the average court lady, are you?"

"What'd you want?"

He smiled. "You're a spirited one, aren't you? Once you've told me all you know about the prince - and _don't_ play fool with me, I know the lovesick dolt told you everything - I think I just might keep you as my little…pet."

She spat on his face.

Smirking again, _why did he have to do that?, _he snapped his fingers and the temperature inside the hut dropped so that the beads of sweat on Alanna's forehead froze almost instantly. "I'll leave you to think on it awhile, shall I, sweetheart?"

#######################################################

Gritting her teeth, Alanna scanned the hut. If he hadn't magicked the ropes tying her to make her gift non-accessible, she could have been out of here hours ago. _Oh well, _she told her tired and cold mind as it began to envision exactly how she could begin to kill the Duke, _it's not as though he's stupid._ Which only made her problems worse.

Provided that she could take off the ropes, there were surely guards outside the hut. Provided that she got past the guards, there was surely magic blocking her escape. Provided she snuck away completely, she had no idea where she was. Provided she knew where she was…well, that was never going to happen.

She could tell the Duke everything she knew and get away without freezing to death. She'd never forgive herself.

She could give wrong information, he would find out, either kill her or bring her back here until she was good and ready to tell him…

She could wait for the Prince to come rescue her…

She could…she could…Alanna's head fell back in the chair and she went back to sleep.

#######################################################

"Whoever it is has strong magic," Thom announced to Jon, Gary, Raoul, Corram, George, and many others. "I can't get through to her. They've blocked her from all the spells I can think of.

"How helpful," said George dryly. "Stephan said she was last seen at the practice courts talking to the Duke."

"Where is the Duke, anyway," Thom asked, frowning at Jon.

"Said he had some business to attend to down in one of his towns. Something about a rebellion of peasants."

"Sure," said George sarcastically, ignoring the look Jon gave him. "His peasants are tamer than lambs. Actually, most of them left once he became the Duke. Apparently they find his magic a bit intimidating."

#######################################################

Alanna shivered and clutched the ember-stone around her neck, the only thing that hadn't been effected by the cold. The Duke had placed a spell on her so that she was in freezing conditions but she couldn't die of hypothermia. Unfortunately, she thought.

The ember-stone! Desperately she slammed the stone down on the chains with all of her strength. The result was a small chinking noise as a tiny piece of metal chipped off. Her eyes widened and she slammed the chain down again and again. Within two hours she had cut the chain almost enough to unlock one of her hands from the wall.

Three days later, exhausted and cold, Alanna unlocked the last chain that bound her foot to the wall and cautiously opened the door, all reason driven out of her. No one was there. She stepped out of the hut and back into the thick trees in the forest. She was warm again! She started to run, realizing that the Duke wasn't a stupid man. Something was up. He wouldn't have left the hut unguarded without some reason. 

Not looking where she was going, she crashed into a man. "I'm sorry, sir-" she said and stopped abruptly.


	5. Of running and akwardness

"Stephan?"

"Alanna?"

"Where am I?" she asked.

"On the edge of the forest. Can't ye see the castle?" He pointed at the towering stone building just out of the trees.

"Excellent!" She began to run towards the castle. As an afterthought she called over her shoulder, "Thank you Stephan!"

He shook his head. "She's a strange lass, that one."

#######################################################

As Alanna burst into the ballroom everything went quiet. Alanna realized that even for those who had not known of her absence, she was still wearing breeches.

Finally a Daughter bustled up. "Alanna! We've been so worried -"

"Where's Thom?" she asked urgently, hardly aware of the people staring at her.

The Daughter narrowed her eyes slightly. "You'd best come with me dear," she told Alanna, still trying to sound motherly. As soon as they had left the ballroom, her kind look disappeared. "Where were you? Everyone was in panic. Don't do that ever again! And what are you wearing?!"

"Where is Thom?" Alanna repeated stubbornly.

"He rode off in search of you yesterday. The prince wished to as well, but his father forbade him. He seems quite smitten with you, Goddess knows why. I insist you go change your clothes right now, Alanna. It's a disgrace -"

Alanna walked past her, knowing she would pay for it later and not caring. She had to find Jonathan. 

__

Jonathan! I though I hated him! Maybe I do. Still, I think I can trust him. I hope. And I have a feeling his not as stupid as I thought he was.

The Daughter was still calling after her, so Alanna broke into a run. As she rounded the corner she ran full into someone.

"Terribly sorry, Lady Alanna," Duke Roger said smoothly, offering her a hand up. She swatted it away and stood up on her own, rubbing her sore shoulder.

"No, the fault was mine, Duke," she said, aware that she was in hearing distance of he daughter. "What are you playing at," she hissed at him through clenched teeth.

He laughed airily. "You shall see soon enough. I have plans for you, my dear."

She shivered. "I'm sorry, I must be going. I…hope to see you again soon," she said so that the Daughter could hear her.

He rewarded her with a snake-like smile. "Don't worry, dearest. You shall. Oh, and I wouldn't go telling the prince about our little… meeting. I wouldn't want to have to make it painful for you." 

She turned and ran.

#######################################################

She played sick for the next three nights, not wanting to meet Duke Roger again. Confined to her room, she paced her balcony and wondered what to do. _It's like a game of chess,_ she mused_. The duke is about to take my queen and there's nothing I can do._

By the fourth evening she decided she would go mad if she stayed in her room any longer. She had to face the duke sometime. 

Yeah, I know it's super-short…surry…


	6. Of flirting and blackmail

The night she chose to leave her room was the first day of midwinter.* The Daughters scolded her for not getting dresses earlier, and she spent the rest of the day being fitted. Naturally, by the ball Alanna was feeling murderous.

Dressed in a gown that would make the Sugarplum Fairy jealous, Alanna appeared at the entrance of ballroom scowling. She found herself escorted down the stairs by Sir Andechéque, a brainless knight who had not left her alone with his bad poetry all autumn. He was tall and fair-haired, and most ladies though him almost as good a catch as the prince. Alanna was not one of them. 

She looked for Jonathan and found him flirting with a new lady, Delia of Eldorne. Alanna felt a sudden unexplained pang of jealousy. The Duke was not in sight, to her relief.

She was jerked out of her thoughts when she realized that her escort was talking to her.

".a danz, fair lady?" He spoke with a thick Gallan accent** that most ladies found romantic. Alanna found it annoying.

"Certainly. Nothing would please me more." She looked at him from underneath her lashes, wondering why she was flirting. It wasn't as though she liked the man. And she had never been a tease.

She stole a glance at Jonathan. Apparently he had just said something funny - Delia was laughing as hard as ladylike behavior allowed, and a few men around were chuckling. Quickly Alanna turned back to Sir Andechéque. 

"You are recovered, zen?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Alanna was very aware of how she was leading him on.

"Yes. It was just a cold, but I didn't want to infect anyone else. I feel most excellent tonight, though," she added, glancing at him through lashes again. _Goddess, what am I doing? I have to leave this place before I do something really stupid!_

She didn't need to find an excuse - it came to her. A pageboy delivered her a message after their dance was over.

__

Alanna-

Come to my chamber. We have much to discuss.

Duke Roger

Dread crept over her, but she had an idea that she wouldn't be able to stay at the ball if the duke did not wish her to. Reluctantly she made her excuses to Sir Andechéque and left the ballroom, earning herself curious glances from other ladies.

As she walked through the hallway, the noise from the ballroom fading, she heard giggles from around the corner. She turned the end just in time to see Delia and Jonathan disappearing into his room. _Life just gets better and better,_ she thought miserably.

Although she had walked as slow as she dared, Alanna still reached Duke Roger's about five minutes later. Resigned, she rapped sharply on his ornately carved door.

The door opened almost immediately. She noted with surprise that he had chosen to receive her himself, instead of making his servants get it. As she entered the room she realized that there were no servants - they were entirely alone. The door creaked ominously shut.

"Whatever you have to say, make it fast. I very highly doubt that it's anything I want to hear, and I'll have to make excuses to the Daughters if I stay much longer." She tried not to let him see how nervous she was.

He laughed. "Stay the whole night," he offered. "Then you won't have to make excuses."

She barely resisted slapping him across the face in her fury. "You are a very twisted man," she told him through clenched teeth. "I would not even consider it."

"Not yet perhaps. But in the future you may change your mind. And I think that you won't want to become an enemy of mine." He smiled. "Now come in. I have a.proposition to make to you."

"No. My answer is no."

"I think you'll want to hear the terms first, my pet." He led her into a sitting room and poured her a cup of what may have been tea. Alanna did not trust him enough to drink it.

"I think you have some idea of what I want." He waited for her to guess.

"You want the throne."

"Not _just_ the throne, pet. Power."

"You are a very greedy man."

He laughed. "You have a talent for making anything sound bad, sweetheart. But you see, to get the throne I need the help of someone that no one would suspect. _You_."

"I told you before, I won't do it." She stood up to leave, and he walked across the room towards her, pushing her back onto the couch again. "Patience, darling. I'm not finished.

"I have always believed that punishments work better than rewards. Not that I won't reward you, when you help me. But if you don't help me.Do you know where Thom is right now?"

__

Thom. She had forgotten about him.*** "What have you done with my brother?" she demanded.

"Oh, he'll be perfectly safe, _if_ you work with me. And don't count on other people to save him. The entire court is under a spell so that unless his name is mentioned, they will _completely_ forget about him. And I wouldn't try mentioning his name. It would mean his death. And we wouldn't want that, would we?" He looked falsely earnest. "What's is your answer now, pet?"

"What do you want me to do?" she asked heavily.

*According to me, midwinter lasts for 12 days like Christmas used to. I don't think it's like that in the books, but just work with me here, k?

**Gallan is my substitute word for French.so he's like this hot French jock that's incredibly stupid.

***Yeah, I kinda forgot about him too.

Woohoo!!! Long chappie (for me). Uh oh.Alanna's in trouble now.


	7. Of truth and kisses

Due to Valentines Day happiness, I'm focusing on the romance in this story, so I'll leave you to wonder about Alanna's catastrophe a bit longer…

(Jonathan's Diary)

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12/30

It has been seven days George accidentally let slip that Alanna's affections weren't sincere. She was the first lady I was actually coming to love, for her wit and charm rather than beauty, not that she isn't beautiful. But now I see that it was all false. George insists that she felt she owed me for saving her life and so pretended to be in love, but I see now that she is just like the others, craving my power. She doesn't know the pain of rejection, of being loved for your power and not yourself. No women do.

I have taken up courting the Lady Delia, who is pretty and clever enough. I admit, though, I am using her to make Alanna jealous. She will never match Alanna in wit, and is far too clinging. But of course, Alanna does not care in the slightest. She has already moved on to Sir Andechéque, serving as an ambassador from Galla. I find him rather dull, but I suppose that Alanna sees but the challenge of winning his heart as she won mine. She is a mindless whore, and I am through with her.

Jonathan

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Alanna woke up in a foul mood the next morning. First of all, it was still winter. Winter was Alanna's least favorite month, and the heavy snows would prevent her from leaving until it was well into summer. But then again, she couldn't leave. Or rather, she _wouldn't_ leave. Her leaving would mean Thom's death.

She was also very tired. She had stayed up late arguing with Duke Roger, and cried herself to sleep. After a fitful rest, she had to get up, because she had to get _another_ gown fitted for tonight. And it was only the second night of midwinter. And then there was Jon. Scowling, Alanna yanked on a simple shirt and breeches, pulling a tunic over the shirt. She pulled her hair up under a hat and stomped off to the practice courts, leaving a note on her desk for the Daughters saying that she would be back in an hour.

As luck would have it, Jonathan was also waiting for an opponent. _Maybe I can teach the a thing or two,_ she thought miserably, loosening her sword in its hilt. He approached her. "A duel?" His polite voice sounded strained. With relief, Alanna realized he hadn't recognized her. She nodded curtly. 

Moments later, they circled each other. Alanna had watched him before and knew he was good. But so was she. She was only vaguely aware of the ladies, Delia among them, who looked on. 

Jonathan made the first move, diving deftly towards her. Her blade met his with a clang. She swung it around towards him again, and he blocked it only just in time. Several of the ladies applauded and Alanna rolled her eyes. She thrust her sword towards his chest. His sword met hers.

It went on like this for another half-hour at least. Finally, Alanna knocked the sword out of his hand and lay hers at his throat. After holding her blade there for a few moments, she released him. Fetching his sword, she handed it to him, bowing. 

"Who are you?" he asked, squinting at her as though he almost knew. "We've met, haven't we?"

"I…cannot say, Majesty. But I must be going…" She bowed again and half walked, half ran back to the castle. She had stayed too long and she didn't want him following her, for fear that he would recognize her.

She made a short cut through the gardens and winced as she heard footsteps on the gravel behind her. Walking faster, she glanced behind her and saw that it was, indeed, Jonathan. She had to stop before he tracked her to her door.

Turning around on the path, she met his eyes fiercely. "Excuse me, Majesty, but I don't have time to talk."

"Who are you? I've met you before!" he insisted.

"No, I can't say. I must go…" He walked towards her, eyes narrowed. In one swift motion, he pulled off her hat and her hair spilled around her face.

"Alanna?!"

She clutched her hair, as though if she held it tight enough it would disappear. It didn't. "No - I…"

"What are you playing at?" His voice had grown cold and menacing. "Haven't you hurt me enough? Do you even know what it feels like, to be _used_?"

"You think _you_'_ve_ been used? I came back from…well, and you had completely forgotten about me."

"You were the one that was being insincere! I thought you actually respected me, loved me as I loved you."

"I do." Whatever Jonathan had been told about her, however true it might have been, this was truer. She pushed passed him, tears running down her face, running towards her chamber. She would be safe from him there. He could demand that she open the door, but that didn't mean she would. She had to reach her room…

He caught her arm. She struggled to pull away, but he held fast. "Let me go!"

"Alanna. I love you." He pressed his lips against hers.


	8. Of sleeping in and betrothal

Alanna woke up the next morning without any priestesses awakening her. Feeling pleased with herself – perhaps she had finally caught up on sleep? – she opened her eyes, which, of late, had become a chore. And discovered the cause of the lack of priestesses. She was staring at the royal blue of Jonathan's canopy bed.

The sense of shock at what she had done was overpowered by the love she felt for the sleeping man next to her. The Prince. Her Prince.

Someone rapped sharply on the door. Alanna squealed and ducked under the covers as Jonathan stirred. "Come in," he called, his voice rough as he woke up. Alanna cursed in her mind. There was no way that she would escape the court rumors if there had been a witness to see her in Jon's bed. He smiled at her as he sat up, his bare chest flexing with muscles, and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Alanna could have died when the door opened and Roger appeared. He took in the scene quickly, giving her only a glancing smirk, before sympathetically asking his cousin "Bad time?" Jonathan shook his head.

"No, no, it's time we got up anyway." Blushing furiously, Alanna rose out of bed like Jon, thankful that she wore a shift. Jonathan kissed her cheek and handed her a fur trimmed robe, so that she could go to her apartments. She thanked him softly and fled.

It had only been half an hour before the Mother rushed into her rooms, stuffed full with gossip. "Alanna! Alanna! Are the rumors true? Are you really the prince's mistress?" She took in the sight of Alanna staring contentedly at her hearth, still wrapped in her lover's robes. It was answer enough.

"Well then there is much to do! Should you become queen – well, you would be a disgrace to the kingdom without proper training! And –"

"I'm not going to be queen, Mother Claudia," Alanna stated calmly, eerily different from her usual taking-offense-at-every-word self. "It would make no sense. Really, I would have thought _you_ would have realized that."

The Mother stiffened, sensing another of Alanna's buried insults. But even the short-tempered mother knew better than to anger those with the favor of the crown. Alanna smiled, enjoying the shift of power.

Only moments after the Mother had left in despair did Roger arrive, not bothering to knock. Alanna glared at him as he strolled casually through the doorway. The snag in her day. The _big_ snag. He grinned and joined her on the sofa facing the fire, spelling the door closed with tendrils of magic. "Now, love. We've much to discuss."

She scowled at him.

"Like, for example, this issue of marriage to my cousin. You shall marry him. It shall be quite a nice edition, I think, in the family. Our family, that is."

She rose from the couch and began to pace, horrified by what she was going to say. "No. I can't do it any longer. I can't go on a liar like this. I am going to have to tell someone."

Roger chuckled heartily. "Now that's the beauty of it, my sweet. Do you remember little Elizabeth? Your goddaughter?"

Alanna went cold. Her best friend at the convent, Lady Alicia de Courtez, had gotten pregnant from rape at fourteen. She had died a week after the childbirth, but not before naming Alanna sole guardian of her daughter. Elizabeth had been at Corus's finest boarding school, after the priestesses had deemed it unsuitable for Alanna to raise the child. Alanna had not noticed the lack of updates on her goddaughter from the teachers – she had been under too much stress.

Roger continued his narrative merrily. "Well, about a week ago her father decided to have custody of his daughter. He appeared at the school and demanded his daughter. When the professors refused, three of them and two girls were murdered. I expect you haven't heard because of the violence. 'Tis just not suitable for a young woman, don't you think?" He paused a moment, as if waiting for her eager agreement. "Now the father has his daughter being taken care of, but he is not particularly interested in her. It is the 30 nobles he receives each week, for keeping her. If he was offered enough money I'm sure he would be willing to give back the girl. But that will not happen _until my cousin is dead_. Are we clear?"

Alanna nodded only slightly, numb. Elizabeth was going to be a page. Elizabeth was going to have the life that Alanna had always wanted. Roger had taken that away from her. And in the hands of a rapist, Elizabeth would never be safe. Alanna's insides crumbled. She would have to sacrifice Jon to save her brother and goddaughter. There was no other way.

Roger grinned. "Now. I have some more plans for us." He patted the couch next to himself invitingly. "Come on, dear. Don't be sad. It will all be over soon enough, and then your little Elizabeth can run free again."

That afternoon, Jonathan visited Alanna between dueling practice and the supper he shared alone with his parents once each week. He carried with him a golden ring with a royal blue gemstone that was just small enough not to be horribly gaudy. When he left, the ring was on Alanna's fingers and she sobbed into her pillow. Even Faithful had sense enough to make himself scarce.

Roger's plot was well underway. Already a poison burned in a cauldron in his laboratory. A poison that would soon find itself to the king and queen. But he had a different plan for his cousin, the one who had beaten him as a boy at everything but magic. But magic would not be the way that the Duke would destroy his cousin. That would be…cowardly. Jonathan would be killed at the hands of his lover. Roger roared with mirth as he struck the steel blade again and again at the forge. The blade he wrought would be perfect. And it would grant him the power he had always craved.

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A rather uplifting way to end it off, don't you think???


	9. Of snooping and surprise

It's been ages since I last updated, huh? I'm gonna try to keep going with this over the rest of the summer and not drop it, because I know what a pain it is to forget the whole story line and have to reread from the beginning.

Thanks to all of my reviewers, soooooo much! You guys are the ones that keep me writing (OK, even if it does take a while)!

XOXOXOXO Chris

It was a fork. That's what they called it in chess, when one piece was protecting two others, and the opponent had set it up so that the protecting piece was forced to sacrifice one to save the other. Alanna was that piece, to choose between Jonathan, or Thom and Elizabeth. Alanna had been thinking about her life a lot in terms of chess these days.

The only way to prevent sacrificing either piece was to kill the offending pieces of the opponent. Namely, kill Roger. But that was impossible. He was an equal swordsman, but a much better wizard, and a very clever man in general. And, if she attempted such an assassination out of desperation, and failed, she was very sure that she would sacrifice all three of her friends.

Deep in thought, she had not noticed that she had company at the wine table that night, where she was downing her third glass of champagne. Roger snaked a hand around her waist, causing her to look up and for her free hand to tighten around the dagger under the surcoat of her gown. Roger had been getting a lot more physical with her lately, something that she had observed with growing unease. She always found him stroking her hair, or her cheek, and holding hand-kisses just a little bit too long. He told her many a time that once she had killed Jon, they would be free to marry each other, but Alanna had never taken it seriously. Now she was beginning to wonder if she ought to.

Taking her hand regretfully off of her dagger, Alanna used it to peel his hand off of her waist. "You," she hissed, "are not my betrothed, and you are not family. Therefore, you have no right to engage in any physical contact with me in public. Direct quote from 'The Young Lady's Guide to Life at Court'."

He smiled at her dubiously. "And since when have you read 'The Young Lady's Guide to Life at Court'?"

She glared back. "Since I've been held prisoner in my own rooms to keep any assassins away from Tortall's future queen."

He laughed at that. "Protect the assassin from assassins. I like it."

Alanna failed to see the humor.

Mother Margaret joined them at the refreshments table to add a pastry or two to her bulk. As she struck up a rousing conversation with Roger about bonnet fashions, Alanna slipped away. Being future queen had made her extremely popular with the ladies, which only irritated her to find women who had shunned her for so many years kissing up to her. She left the party early and went up to her rooms, where she played a game of chess by herself.

Jonathan's hearty laughter filled the air as he stepped into her room later that day. Alanna, amid a bustle of seamstresses and Mothers, glared at him from underneath a triple-layer veil.

"You look," he said, lifting the veil and giving her a quick peck on the lips, "Like a wedding cake, not a bride." He spoke the truth. Alanna was sampling one of the many dresses that were possibilities for the wedding. This one had a triple layer skirt and rather square bodice, and she came off looking indeed like a many-layered cake.

"And that is what I have spent the last half-hour telling them," she told him with a great deal of annoyance. But apparently my opinion doesn't matter here. I'm only _wearing_ the dress."

Mother Margaret curtsied to Jon deeply. "I beg your pardon, your Highness, but oughtn't you not be seeing your bride in her dress before the wedding? It is very bad luck on the marriage."

Jonathan grinned. "Mother, I think it more likely that pigs will fly than for my fiancé to wear _that_ to out wedding."

She curtsied again. "Very good, you Highness," the Mother murmured, miffed.

"I believe my mother wore something a bit less ridiculous to her wedding," Jonathan turned back to Alanna. "Perhaps you could borrow it."

Alanna had noticed that Queen Lianne had remarkably good taste in dresses for being a court lady. The idea seemed a good one, even if the wedding wasn't exactly going to tie a lasting marriage, given that she had orders to slay the prince the night after their vows. "What would I do without you?" she asked him, smiling. Inside she was crying. _What will I do without him?_

"You know," Roger began later that night at their weekly meeting in his chambers. "I've been thinking about the place where I've put you, with all this guilt your going to be feeling for killing the prince."

Alanna raised her eyebrows in skepticism.

"And I would just like you to know, my dear, that no matter what, the prince will die. You'll just be doing the killing. You could consider it noble, actually. You know how to kill people nicely, quick and fast. Any other I might entice to kill Jon would be more apt to torture, first."

Alanna was quite sure that it would be torture enough to be killed by your lover for no explained reason. She was wondering if she should bother to relay this to Roger when somebody rapped on the door to his suite. It was Alex. He spoke to Roger briefly, causing the Duke to look alarmed and very, very angry. As Alex spoke more the Duke looked more panicked. He grabbed his wizard's rod, which lay by the door and strode out with his squire, forgetting completely about Alanna.

Alanna stood up, smoothing her skirts in the back out of habit. She had never explored the Duke's rooms before, only the main guest area. She stretched and looked around. Three doors opened from the room she stood in. The first was a privy, the second, a bedroom (where at least half of the court had slept at one time), and the third, his workroom. "Careless, Roger," she murmured, pushing the door that he had left ajar open further.

Among vials that simmered with reds and dark, slimy greens, was a table. Two goblets and a dagger rested upon it. The goblets held a clear liquid (poison, Alanna could tell), and the dagger…she knew its purpose well. Books of sorcery lined a side of the room. Another wall looked at first like a tapestry. Upon further examination, Alanna realized with a jolt that it held not different scenes of the hunt, but views of real people. Thom slept in a prison, his hands cuffed to the wall with chains that glittered orange, chains that she suspected kept Thom's gift out of reach. Another tapestry showed a little girl staring out at the land below her, standing in the highest tower of a run-down castle. Her clothes were worn and her face lonely, but Alanna saw no injuries on Elizabeth's face. Other scenes showed less fortunate people, some dead, some nursing wounds and missing limbs, and one old man being beaten by two burly guards. Alanna turned away, sickened. She had seen enough of Roger's workroom.

She left, shutting the door behind her to keep him from being suspicious of any snooping she might have done there. Alanna stopped to relieve herself in his privy before leaving. As she stood to leave the privy, she tripped and fell against the wall, her weight banging against it with a hollow sound.

Alanna had been around thieves enough to know that secret rooms could be very useful things. She groped at the wall until her fingertips found the cracks to open the door. She dug into the wood with her fingernails and pulled out. The door swung open, and Alanna gaped at the sight her eyes beheld.


	10. Of allies and alibis

A bit short, but I figured I couldn't leave you hanging forever. Enjoy! xoxo

Lady Delia of Eldorne glared defiantly up at her, daring Alanna to voice the shock that had risen up in her so suddenly. The scene was an unexpected one, and Alanna took several moments to compose herself by observing the hidden closet's occupant before she spoke. The other girl had been bound and gagged, and the purpling bruises around her wrists and ankles indicated that she had been struggling for many hours to escape with little success. One eye was blackened, and a trickle of blood ran from a split eyebrow. Her mouth had been gagged effectively with someone's handkerchief.

Finally Alanna regained her composure. "Evening, Delia," she said dryly, as if they were exchanging pleasantries at a ball. Bending down, she removed the gag gingerly, aware after years of being rivals that Delia was as unpredictable as Alanna. Her apprehension was unnecessary. Delia was just able to croak out a plea for water before her throat failed her and she fell as silent as Goldthumb, a man from the rogue who'd had his tongue cut out.

Alanna shook her head. "Not yet. You'd better get out of here before Roger comes back. Look," she paused, considering the risk and deciding that if Delia had become a foe of Rogers, it rather improved their own relationship, "Why don't you go back to my suite?" As she cut the ropes around Delia's wrists and ankles with a dagger, she fished around in the hidden pocket she'd added to her slipper with the other hand, drawing out her room key. Hoping it wasn't a rash decision, Alanna handed the brunette her key.

As soon as Delia had departed from Roger's suite Alanna returned to the loveseat, rather shakily pouring herself a glass of champagne as she waited for Roger's return.

"So that's you're story?" Alanna demanded some time later, having returned from Roger's suite when she had grown impatient of his delay. "You mentioned Thom to the Provost, and Roger found out, beat you up, and threw you in a convenient hidden closet in his bathroom?" She was sitting cross-legged on her king-sized silver trimmed bed, which had been recently updated from the plain wooden one she'd made do with until her betrothal. Delia was perched in a similarly new overstuffed lavender chair next to the fire, her posture perfect, making an odd contrast against her battered face.

Delia laughed slightly at Alanna's refusal to accept her story. "Alanna dearest, we've known each other for years, if not on the best of terms. Do you honestly think I'd try to pass that off as my story if it weren't true? When I lie, I tend to go for the…dramatics." Alanna considered this, recalling time after time that the daughters had punished her for wicked crimes she had not committed, supposedly witnessed by Delia.

Something still did not add up in the story. "What made you mention Thom? I thought you and Roger were on the same side?" And if the gossip had a speck of truth to it, they were lovers as well. Alanna didn't bring it up, not wanting to admit that she paid heed to anything that came out of a courtier's mouth.

Delia glanced at Alanna quizzically. "You didn't hear the rumors? I suppose with that ice-skating fiasco, and then the disappearing act…but I suppose when you are the center of the gossip it seems impossible that anyone should miss it. Alanna, Thom and I were in love."

Alanna gazed out the window at the softly falling snow, taking this in. Part of her wanted to demand that Delia get out of her rooms for suggesting that her brother would ever take an interest in her. Another part was jealous and hurt that Thom wouldn't tell her about his relationship with a woman she knew (albeit despised). But her exhaustion kept her from acting on either emotion, and she considered the claim from a detached perspective. It was, of course, entirely possible that Delia was reciting a well-rehearsed lie. But somehow, Delia's disconsolate gaze at the burning logs in the fire suggested to Alanna that for perhaps the first time in her life, Delia was telling the truth to her.

"So then," Alanna mused, "Roger discovered, used it to blackmail you for help, and," she hesitated, repulsed, "forced you to become his lover?"

"Roger always gets what he wants, Alanna," Delia warned. "Something you'd do well to remember, considering that second only to the throne, you are what Roger covets."


End file.
